How You Remind Me
by Zenchn
Summary: One shot request. Lon'qu offers comfort 3


**As requested by Aurora who correctly guessed the reference in my fic _(I Could Never) Give You Up._**

**_/Zen_**

* * *

><p>I woke late in the night. I'm not sure what it was that woke me... a sound or a thought. Maybe one of the dreams I hardly remember.<p>

Pressing a palm to my forehead, I try to push the headache back but it won't go. They're getting worse and more frequent. Is there something wrong with me?

_Am I ill?_ The question is something I'm asking myself too much lately, and it sends chills down my back.

Swallowing hard, I sit up and tug my boots on. There's no point trying to get any sleep now. I stuff my shirt tails back into my breeches with shaky hands and search for my belt in the dark. Strapping that on, I find my sword belt as well and add that. I feel naked without it these days.

Outside the air is cooler and I take a deep breath before moving through the rows of tents. I want to be out of the camp for some reason, like the white canvas of the tents is suffocating me. I've only gone a few steps when I hear the scuff of boots behind me.

If it were Tharja, I'd only hear the rustle of fabric. She's nearly silent when creeping after me. Turning, I wait until the dark shadow solidifies. Smiling, I call out to him.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"Shouldn't you?" Lon'qu's voice is thick with slumber and his dark hair is mussed like he just rolled out of his blankets. I can't help grinning – and noticing that he hadn't taken the time to fully dress. His blue coat had been left behind, leaving him in a loose linen shirt and snug breeches. A wide belt encircles his trim waist. His sword rests against his hip, as much a part of him as his arms and legs.

"Did I wake you?" I ask, sure I couldn't have. Not unless I was shouting in my sleep, in which case others would have woken. I wasn't certain what brought him out of his sleep, but his presence was welcome.

With a grunt, he brushes past me. I follow, biting back a smile.

We reach the edge of camp where the stream runs by, the soft bubbling sound of the water trickling past like distant chatter, when my headache redoubles its effort to split my skull. I suck in a breath at the sudden stab of pain, miss a step, and stumble.

For a moment I'm too caught up in the pain to realize I haven't hit the ground. As it fades, I realize I've been folded up against a strong chest. Arms more accustomed to swinging a sword than providing comfort encircle me, holding me close. Blinking to focus, I stare at his chest. His white shirt is open at the throat, exposing the ridge of his collar bone. I can feel his heartbeat racing beneath my fingertips where my hands press against his chest.

My heart runs to catch up with his.

Swallowing, I look up to find him peering down at me. The night has cast shadows along the plains of his face, adding even more mystery to his features than normal.

"Are you alright?" he asks. His voice is hoarse as though he's been yelling, and it rumbles through his chest into my hands. "You're trembling."

It wasn't from my headache, that much I knew. And I wasn't about to tell him that.

"I'm alright," I say, surprised to hear myself sound so quiet. "It's just... headaches." I look down at my hands on his chest again. It's hard to look up at his face. A blush works its way into my cheeks, warming me through to my ears.

"How long have you been having them?"

I hesitate, listening to the burbling of the stream next to us and feeling the beat of his heart beneath my hands. I'm hyper-aware of his arms around my back.

"Awhile," I say at last.

His embrace tightens. "You've not said anything."

"I'll be alright," I tell him, pushing gently. He lets me go reluctantly, like he's afraid I'll fall over if he isn't supporting me. A chill envelops me as soon as his arms let me go.

"Was it a... headache that woke you tonight?" he asks as I turn away, staring out towards the stream and the dark shadows of the trees beyond. The moon shines down, illuminating the scene with an almost misty light. It makes the area look haunted.

"I get them sometimes. Mostly I don't remember them... sometimes a headache comes after but it's the feeling that comes from them that sticks with me."

He moves to stand closer to me, taking small steps like I'm the one with the phobia. Or maybe the small steps were for himself. Was he forcing himself to stand closer to me? Why?

"What feeling?"

"Like I'm being watched," I say. "Like I'm being watched by something evil."

He stands close enough behind me I can feel his body heat. It's faint, but it sends a thrill through me. Something about him plucks at the strings of my heart, strikes a chord deep inside of me. An ache burns in the back of my throat. I want him to hold me again and tell me the dreams won't come back, that I'll be safe. I want him to tell me I won't make a mistake and no one will die.

But even if he does tell me those things, they'd be lies. He can't make the dreams go away. He can't know the future or protect the others from a mistake I might make.

I spin around quickly, intending to head back to my tent – clearly this had been a bad idea. Why had I thought a walk would clear my head? Instead I was thinking harder and felt like I might cry – which was something I refused to do. Especially in front of Lon'qu.

With him standing right behind me, I spun into him and found myself face to face with his broad chest again. I catch my breath and look up at him.

Moonlight illuminates his face now and I ee something in his eyes I can't describe. He raises his hand slowly, moving it to cup my face. I close my eyes with a sigh dragged from the very depths of my soul, and let the warmth of his hand seep into me.

"Don't run," he says in a voice so low he might have been growling.

I chuckle weakly. "Aren't I supposed to be telling you that?"

He grunts – or maybe it's a laugh. I lean into him, giving him time to back away if he needs to. I feel him stiffen for a moment, then he relaxes bit by bit. Braver, I thread my arms around his neck and bury my face in his neck. My hands splay over the muscles of his back, but even through the material of his shirt I can feel the ridges of scars beneath the fabric.

There is so much about him I don't know. So much like my own past. And right now, it doesn't matter. Right now, he is holding me and that's all I need.

His arms tighten around me and one of his hands work its way into my hair, cradling my head to him. He exhales and I feel his breath stir my hair along my neck. I don't want to move away, I don't want to go back to the camp or have any more meetings or see any more Risen.

"Lon'qu – "

He pulls back and presses a rough finger to my mouth. I stopp, looking up at him.

"There's something... I want to try."

I wait, unsure what he means. By the tension I suddenly feel in his shoulders and the way his voice catches, it must be something difficult. He's been here for me – I already know I'll do what I can for him.

What he meant – when I realize it – takes me by surprise.

His chest rises beneath my palm as he takes a deep breath and he ducks his head towards me, tilting his face a little. I look up at him stupidly, not sure if he's inspecting my face or seeing how close he can get but determined to hold still. Then his hand finds my cheek, cradles it. He pauses, a breath of space between us. And it clicks.

I slide my hand from his chest up to his neck, encouraging, and lean into his hand.

I feel him shudder, and then he closes the distance, pressing a kiss to my lips.


End file.
